


Warning: Do not Step on The Lawn!

by peachesandwine



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Crack, Fail stuff, Fluff and Crack, Jisung is a stalker, Lots of it, M/M, Minho has a potty mouth, Minho is so done, Not Beta Read, One-sided Minho/woojin, Rated T for swearing, Stalking, minsung is dumb, sorry - Freeform, stalker au, swearings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-04 11:39:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16346003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachesandwine/pseuds/peachesandwine
Summary: “Don’t worry, Will.” Minho snapped at his butler, ignoring the puzzled look his butler threw at him. “Let me handle this. That fucker is going to regret to ever set foot into my lawn.”Minho opened the double wooden doors with a loud bang and he couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of the said stalker yelped in surprise. His cute round eyes widened in panic at the sight of Minho and oh boy, Minho was going to roast him dead.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A light drabble just to get me out of the writerblock? haha. 
> 
> I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes and spelling errors that can be find anywhere in this story. This story as per usual, is not beta-read, so yeah. Sorry for that.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Comments, kudos and anything of sorts will be cherished as well as my motivator to keep writing! :)
> 
> Warning though, Minho has a potty mouth, so you know what to expect :)

00.

 

The thing with Minho was, he was originally a nice person—not really a patient one albeit—but honestly speaking, he wasn’t that bad of a person. He could tolerate human being to a certain extent, though there were times where he snapped and lash out like a mad cat. You couldn’t really blame him though. Sometimes, humans were just pure dumb and it really irked him to no end that nearly all humans—if not _all_ —he met so far had managed to somehow pull his strings. Hence the reason why he stayed away from them as far as humanely as possible.

 

It wasn’t that he was an anti-social—contrary to popular rumours lurking around, no thanks to his dumb friends—no, he just preferred to keep his circle of friendship small. Bigger friends, bigger trouble—that always have been his motto for years and he didn’t intend to change it any other way. He was happy just the way they were.

 

It was always just him, Chan and Woojin. Three of them had been friends as long as he could remember. It all started with him and Woojin, being a childhood friends they were, Woojin used to be Minho’s prince in shining armour—not that he would ever admit out loud. They were small kids back then. Minho was tiny and he was a weak child that prone to sickness, hence making him a perfect victim material. The bigger kids would always taunt and mock him for being small and weak—calling him names and whatnot. He learnt to ignore them and usually they got tired and leave him alone. Until one day—when it got too much and they started to get physical—Woojin suddenly came in and saved the day. Woojin was a year above him and they instantly backed away in fear. Since then Woojin always keep him near and Minho didn’t even complain. He had become Minho’s very first friend.

 

It was a couple of years before Chan entered their circle of friendship. Minho admitted that he was jealous at first, since Woojin had other friends other than him but he should’ve expect it anyway. Woojin was a nice kid—unlike Minho—he was friendly to everyone; hence it wouldn’t be too surprising if he had a lot of friends. Minho was an only child, so he wasn’t used to have to share his things, friends included. But Chan—an adorable bright kid with equally adorable eye smile—was a bubbly boy, even with a weird accent that Minho didn’t quite understand, and he was one of those types of person that is impossible to hate. Chan had the power to make people smile, and Minho was forever envious for that.

 

Out of all, Minho was the odd one out. The one who scowled too much, complained too much, got angry too much, got sick too much—and even then, Minho wondered why his friends hadn’t left him for good. He was the less talented, less good looking, less kind—just basically a whole different league from Chan and Woojin. He wouldn’t even be friend with someone like him. Woojin was a brilliant singer and Chan was a young prodigy in music hence, the sudden explosion in popularity the moment they set their feet in College. They both handsome and talented, not to mentioned kind and caring so it wasn’t really a surprise when they got lots of confessions, gifts and love letters throughout the college year. Compare to them, Minho was just a lame med student that barely able to keep up his grades. He wouldn’t even fit with their popular image, so he wouldn’t surprise if one day, they decided to had enough of him and left altogether. Though they didn’t, they stayed—all of these years—and Minho was forever grateful for that.

 

Okay so maybe Minho had already used to their popularity amongst the junior and he shouldn’t feel surprise to see stalkers or something of similar sorts—but this was getting _ridiculous._ Minho peeked from the curtains in his room.

 

_There._

_Behind the fuckin’ bushes._

 

Minho could see a mop of ridiculous blond hair amongst the shrubs, stuck out like a sore thumb—and _oh, look!_ —the dumb blond had stepped onto his lawn, _again._ Three days. It’s been three fuckin’ days since Minho was graced with the presence of Chan’s stalker. Minho let out an exasperated sigh. He was _this_ close to pulled his hair out of his scalp in frustration. There was clearly a _fuckin’_ sign of ‘DO NOT STEP ON THE LAWN’ but _of course,_ Chan’s resident number one fanboy is dumb enough to ignore the sign and got a _fuckin_ ’ nerve to trespass into his front yard, _stepping_ into his _lawn_ and took his _god-damned_ sweet time stalked his best friend using a _fuckin binocular._

 

The nerves that dumb shit had.

 

Minho closed his curtains angrily and hurriedly made his way down. The sound of his padded-feet against the floor reverberated throughout the mansion as he stomped down the stairs in fury, ignoring the confusion glances from the maids.

 

“Why didn’t anyone tell him off?” Minho barked at no one particular, feeling his body burning with rage. He had a major quiz on pyramidal and extrapyramidal pathways to study for and a case report to finish. He really didn’t have time for a dumb stalker harassing his lawn.

 

“Young Master, is there—“

 

“Don’t worry, Will.” Minho snapped at his butler, ignoring the puzzled look his butler threw at him. “Let me handle this. That fucker is going to regret to ever set foot into my lawn.”

 

Minho opened the double wooden doors with a loud bang and he couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of the said stalker yelped in surprise. His cute round eyes widened in panic at the sight of Minho and oh boy, Minho was going to roast him dead.

 

_Wait, what?_

 

Minho shook his head angrily and glared deep at the culprit. He definitely did _not_ think the other boy was _cute._ The dumb shit was annoying and he was _not_ cute.

 

Minho trudged his way down the steps of his front yard, putting his meanest glare on display. “Hey!” Minho barked, mentally cheered at the boy scared expression. “Can’t you like, _fuckin’_ read the sign?! It says DO NOT STEP ON THE LAWN so in case you’re a dumb fuck who can’t fuckin’ read the sign, it means do not STEP on the fuckin’ lawn!”

 

The boy winced at Minho’s tone and looked at the sign then back at Minho, eyes wide and frantic. “U-um I’m s-sorry! I didn’t see the sign! I-I mean I sort of d-did b-but—“

 

“Oh, so playing dumb, are we?” Minho snapped, glares deepened at the stuttering blond in front of him. “I could’ve call the police right now, you know? Breaking into people’s house is a crime after all.”

 

“I-I wasn’t!” the blond protested, “ I wasn’t breaking into your house! I-I mean not literally—“

 

“It’s my _fuckin’ lawn,_ you little shit!” Minho felt his patience running thin, hands clenching into fist. “So, it’s _my fuckin’ property._ ”

 

“Okay, fine!” The blond boy scowled, “You didn’t need to be mean about it.” he mumbled under his breaths but Minho heard him loud and clear.

 

“I didn’t need to be mean?” Minho hissed angrily. “You’re the one who got the nerves to trespass into someone’s house and act like a fucking stalker!”

 

“You don’t know _anything_!” The blond groaned in annoyance, his hand running through his blond hair in frustration.

 

Minho narrowed his eyes dangerously as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Care to elaborate before I call up the police?”

 

“No, you wouldn’t!” the boy whined meekly.

 

Minho glared. “Try me.”

 

The boy let out a defeated sigh. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

 

“Okay, time’s up!” Minho snorted, “I’m calling the police right now.” He fake-pressed the number and pretend to put the phone close to his ear.

 

“WAIT DO—“

 

“Why hello, sir. Good evening.” Minho smiled sweetly at the latter’s horrid expression, “I’m here to report—”Minho was interrupted when his phone suddenly snatched away from his hand. He looked up in fury. _That fucker._

 

“L-look! I don’t want to do it but you leave me no choice!” The blond explained frantically, “I c-can’t get in a jail!”

 

“You _will_ be if you don’t return my phone in 3 seconds!” Minho growled, his patience snapped.

 

“Promise me you’re not calling the police first, then I’ll return your phone.”

 

Minho was ready to man-handled the boy when a familiar voice broke his thoughts.

 

“Pardon me, Young Master, but does this young man bother you?” Minho glanced at William, bless his soul, who was sporting his usual stony expression, yet Minho could see the deadliness behind those stares.

 

Minho took that moment to snatched his phone back from the younger’s perplexed expression and walked away. “Get him away from my sight, Will.”

 

“Very well, Young Master.” The butler bowed before turned his attention towards the blond boy with a deadly stare. The young blond gulped in fear before scrambled to get his bag and scurried off in a blink of an eye.

 

Minho watched from afar and snorted.

 

_Served him right._

 

*

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This not beta-proofed. So I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes and spelling errors that can be found anywhere in this story.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Comments, kudos and anything of sorts will be cherished and loved forever :)

01.

 

 It was thirty minutes past midnight when Minho realised that he couldn’t make past the first page of the _god-damned_ Duus’ Topical Diagnosis in Neurology textbook—as much as he would like to, since his grade was depending on weekly quizzes such this one. Minho gave his-messy-excuse-of-a-table a hopeless look before standing up, groaning slightly at the cracks he felt in his body.

 

This wasn’t going as planned, which was irritatingly odd, since it was pretty simple to follow. The plans were studying for the quiz until 7 o’clock, finish the case report until 9, then go to bed at 11. It was supposed to be easy and simple.

 

_Then why he couldn’t get anything done today?_

_Of course!_ Minho almost snorted. That damned _squirrel._

 

Call him petty, but Minho was 200% sure this was the reason he couldn’t concentrate on his work. That stupid squirrel just _had_ to ruin his mood. Minho was that type of person that do things based on his mood. So, if it was anybody to blame, it was that stupidly annoying squirrel with that stupidly adorable cheeks and strabismus eyes and that stupid oversized yellow hoodies he wore which make him even more adorab—

 

_Wait what?_

 

Minho could feel a blush creeping up to his pale cheeks and he screamed in frustration. He was pretty sure the whole mansion could hear it—heck the maids even starting to question his sanity if the looks they gave out were any indication—yet, he could really careless because a) Minho was sure that this was his sleep-deprived brain thinking so hallucination was inevitable, and b) he just had to encounter unfavourable events with a stupid squirrel in his equally stupid yellow hoodie— _so!_ In the end, a plus b resulted in c, which consisted of Minho watched his grades free fall from 10,000 feet building.

 

Minho ran his hand through hair, a habit he developed when he was too stressed about anything in particular. He really shouldn’t be agonising over something trivial. This was the stress-talking and his overworked brain seemed to reach its melting point so maybe, he really needed to take a break.

 

He took a few deep breaths and make his way towards his balcony. The balcony door opened with a slight creak and he silently slipped out of the room. Once outside, Minho sat on the swing and could finally feel his tense muscles relaxed. It had become his habit to sit out in the balcony, watching the skies like he used to when he was younger. There were times when it got a bit too much; too overwhelming for his brain to handle. At time like this, he would sit out in the balcony for hours, watching the skies turned darker. He would imagine himself as a moon sometimes. _Scarred and lonely._ He wondered if anybody ever feel it too.

 

Minho hummed a random song as he closed his eyes. It was early October, yet the wind already picked up their pace. He could feel his body shivered slightly and mentally cursed at his current outfit, which consist of lilac-coloured satin pyjamas. He should’ve brought a jacket or at least a blanket but no, thanks to his combusting brain—and now, he was cold and he couldn’t even be bothered to move his tired ass back to his room to get himself a proper jacket or blanket.

 

_Talk about being dumb._

The brunet sighed in defeat and pouted slightly. The day has been exhausting and tomorrow was going to be even more so—morning classes and lab work, which meant that he wouldn’t be able to go home until late in the evening. Well, might as well go bed now.

 

Minho got up from the swing and started to make his way towards his room when he heard a laughter echoed from the other side of the house—Chan’s house, or more specifically, Chan’s room. Now that he thought about it, the light was on, which meant that Chan was still awake—but then again, Chan always had a problem with sleeping so it wasn’t weird to see his light on in the middle of the night. What weird was, the fact that Minho could perfectly see another figure that looked a hell lot similar like _Woojin_ , tackled the boy down in a—presumably—a non-too-platonic tickle fight.

 

Minho felt a pang of jealousy somehow embedded down in his chest, soaring like a course of electricity, rendered him motionless. They were close, Minho knew that—heck they’re even more closer than Minho and Woojin ever were since they’re both of the same age—but it didn’t escape Minho’s watchful eyes. Those lingering gaze and affectionate gestures—they hold special meanings, something that the other couldn’t decipher. Minho always had a little crush on Woojin ever since he could remember but he knew the older never saw him in the same light, so he opted to hold his line and let his feeling died in time.

 

Well, at least that what he’d hoped for, but life was being a usual bitch and it had another plan for him. In years, the-supposedly-stupid crush turned into a full-blown love and in an instant, it turned his whole life into a dark end. He was getting better now though, even if he still had episodes here and there but at least it wasn’t as bad. As much as he wanted to hate him, Woojin was his very first—if not only— best friend and throughout his withdrawal days, Woojin and Chan were the ones that stayed by his side. They’ve done too much for him, so at least they deserved to be assure that he was fine.

 

_Breaking._

_Slowly._

_But it’s okay, right?_ He was used to it.

 

But, maybe.

 

Maybe Minho had think too much, maybe he exaggerated things—and _maybe_ , there was actually nothing going on between Chan and Woojin. He concluded that his biased observation came from his sleep-deprived brain so he really should be going to bed. The brunet willed himself to not look back at the scene—not wanting to deal with it anymore further—as he slipped inside. He took a dive in his king-sized bed and curled up under the warm duvet, hoping for once to forget everything.

 

 

*

 

Minho was no fortune-teller but as expected, his gut feeling was right. It was barely lunch break and he already felt like everything was crumbling down. Let’s just say that he barely got a wink of sleep last night, and when he did finally fell asleep, it was 4.30 in the morning and his first class started in one and a half hour, which resulted in him waking up late. He barely had any time to take a shower—let alone a breakfast—which resulted in stomach pain he’s having right now. And to made it even worse, he forgot to grab his Neurology textbook on his table from the previous night attempt to study and he had to listen to his professor chewed his ears off—which resulted in another extra assignment for him to suffer with. And for cherry on top, in his hurry this morning, he randomly grabbed a pair of socks without even realising that it was _fucking_ pink with a white cat printed onto it. He didn’t even bring another spare so he had to deal with the embarrassment for the rest of the day.

 

_Fan-fucking-tastic_

 

As the lunch break rolled around, Minho could only drag himself out of the lecture hall towards the food hall. Thankfully, it wasn’t packed yet, so Minho still had time to breathe and gathered his energy for his afternoon class. He then proceeded to one of the table in the corner of the hall and dumped his bag along with his books unceremoniously on the table. He dropped his head on the table, groaning at his pounding head. He could already feel the incoming headache and he wanted nothing more than run back home and sleep for eternity.

 

Minho heard a shuffling noise beside him and mentally snarled at the thought of anyone that dared to disturb him right now. He looked up slightly—curious about the culprit who disturbed him—and was met with Woojin’s bright smile as he sat down next to him. Minho was going to greet him but last night event flashed in his mind and immediately settled for ignoring him instead.

 

Woojin raised his eyebrow at the silent treatment and decided to playfully poke the younger male. “Rough night, aye?”

 

Minho snorted at the question. “Well, what do you know.”

 

Woojin gave him a blank look. “Wow. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

 

“Well, must be nice to wake up to Chan’s face instead.” Minho blurted out sarcastically and judging from Woojin’s widened eyes and expression, he instantly felt guilty. He knew it was a low blow but he really couldn’t help it. The image of Woojin and Chan cuddled in a bed itself brought another wave of envy—one that he couldn’t bear to have right now.

 

“Um, well, last night Chan needed help with one of his composition,” Woojin explained awkwardly and his eyes landed anywhere other than Minho’s, “I-I mean I need his opinion about my evaluation project too…so I thought might as well help him.”

 

Minho hummed in acknowledgement. “Excuses and excuses, but okay, whatever.”

 

“It’s not an excuse.” Woojin frowned and when Minho gave him a pointed look, he sighed in defeat. “I’m not lying, Min-ah.”

 

Minho rolled in eyes and dropped his head back onto the table. “Yeah, yeah, okay I believe you.”

 

Woojin shook his head at the younger’s antics and decided to ignore the comments. “I’m not lying and enough about me. You’ve been acting like a grumpy cat. So, Spill.”

 

“There’s nothing to spill.”

 

“Nope, try again.”

 

Minho groaned, “There’s nothing really. Leave me alone.”

 

Woojin rolled his eyes, “It can’t be nothing. First, you didn’t even greet me earlier. Second, you’ve been more sarcastic than usual, which doesn’t happen unless you have a bad day. Third, you didn’t even order anything to eat, which was odd for your usually gluttonous appetite. Fourth, you look like shit.” The older concluded. “So, you know the drill. Spill.”

 

It was unfair, Minho thought. It was unfair how the older knew him so much that he couldn’t even hide anything from the older. Not even his feeling. He was sure Woojin was aware of Minho’s feeling towards him but he never brought it up. Minho didn’t want to either. He wasn’t ready for the heartbreak and he was contented being what they were right now.

 

“It’s just a bad day.” Minho relented as he mumbled silently, “don’t worry.”

 

Woojin’s eyes immediately softened and looked at the younger in concern. “What happened? Do you want to talk about it?”

 

Minho shook his head tiredly, “No, I’m too tired. Could you wake me up when lunch’s over?”

 

“Are you okay?” Woojin frowned as he put his palm on the younger’s forehead. His frown deepened at the temperature. “Min-ah you’re getting warm. I don’t think you’ll make it for lab work today.”

 

“I’ll be fine,” the younger mumbled sleepily, his head was swimming and all he wanted was nothing more than 15-minutes nap. He felt rather sorry that Woojin had to be alone now that Minho decided to take a nap—but really, his eyes had somehow gotten so heavy that he couldn’t even keep it open for much longer. His stomach was screaming in pain for him to get something to eat, but the brunet didn’t even have the energy to talk, let alone order anything in cafeteria.

 

Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen Chan the whole day. Shouldn’t Woojin be with Chan since he slept over at his house last night?

 

“Where’s Chan hyung?” Minho questioned.

 

“Oh, He has a meeting with his group about the composition project so he won’t be joining for lunch.” The older explained, reaching for his fries before shove it down his mouth.

 

Minho gave him a look. “You’re disgusting, hyung.”

 

Woojin grinned adorably with his cheeks puffed out—which was bad for Minho’s weak heart. “You still love me though.”

 

Minho chuckled bitterly, “You wish.”

 

Woojin smiled but didn’t say anything and opted to dig more on his fries. They fell into a comfortable silence and Minho let his eyes closed, feeling himself slowly slipped into a slumber.

 

 

*


End file.
